LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  0?  CALIFORNIA 


IN    THE    SHADOW 
OF    THE   GLEN 


J.  M.   SYNGE 


JOHN   W.   LUCE   &   COMPANY 
BOSTON     :::::::     191  i 


Copyright,   1904 
By  J.  M.  Synge 


IN    THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

A  Play  in  One  Act 

First    performed    at    the    Molestcorth    Hall, 
Dublin,  October  8th,  1903. 

PERSONS 

Dan  Burke  (farmer  and  herd)   . 

George  Roberts 

Nora  Burke   {his  wife)     .     .     . 

Maire  Nic  Shiubhlaigh 

Micheal  Dara  (a  young  herd)    .  1\  J.  Kelly 
A  Tramp W.  G.   Fay 


IN    THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 
A  Play  in  One  Act 

First    performed    at    the    Molesworth    Hall, 
Dublin,  October  8th,   1903. 

Scene. — The  last  cottage  at  the  head  of  a 
long  glen  in  County  Wicklow. 

(Cottage  kitchen;  turf  tire  on  the  right;  a 
bed  near  it  against  the  wall  with  a  body  lying 
on  it  covered  with  a  sheet.  A  door  is  at  the 
ether  end  of  the  room,  with  a  low  table  near  it. 
and  stools,  or  wooden  chairs.  There  are  a 
couple  of  glasses  on  the  table,  and  a  bottle  of 
whisky,  as  if  for  a  wake,  with  two  cups,  a  tea- 
pot, and  a  home-made  cake.  There  is  another 
small  door  near  the  bed.  Nora  Burke  is  mov- 
ing about  the  room,  settling  a  few  things,  and 

hting  candles  on  the  table,  looking  now  and 
then  at  the  bed  with  an  uneasy  look.  Some  one 
knocks  softly   at    the   door.      She   lakes   up   a 


THE     SHADOW    OF1    THE    GLEN 

stocking  with  money  from  the  table  and  puts  it 
in  her  pocket.     Then  she  opens  the  door.) 

TRAMP 
Outside. 
Good  evening  to  you,  lady  of  the  house. 

NORA 

Good  evening,  kindly  stranger,  it's  a  wild 
night,  God  help  you,  to  be  out  in  the  rain  fall- 
ing. 

TRAMP 

It  is,  surely,  and  I  walking  to  Brittas  from 
the  Aughrim  fair. 

NORA 

Is  it  walking  on  your  feet,  stranger  ? 

TRAMP 

On  my  two  feet,  lady  of  the  house,  and  when 
I  saw  the  light  below  I  thought  maybe  if  you'd 
a  sup  of  new  milk  and  a  quiet  decent  corner 
where  a  man  could  sleep  (he  looks  in  past  her 
and  sees  the  dead  man).  The  Lord  have  mercy 
on  us  all ! 

NORA 

Tt  doesn't  matter  anyway,  stranger,  come  in 

out  of  the  rain. 

8 


THE    S  H  A  D  O  W     O  F     THE    GLEN 

TRAMP 

Coming  in  slowly  and  going  towards 

the  bed. 

Is  it  departed  he  is? 

NORA 

It  is,  stranger.  He's  after  dying  on  me,  God 
forgive  him.  and  there  I  am  now  with  a  hun- 
dred sheep  beyond  on  the  hills,  and  no  turf 
drawn  for  the  winter. 

TRAMP 

Looking  closely  at  the  dead  man. 

It's  a  queer  look  is  on  him  for  a  man  that's 
dead. 

NORA 

Half -humorously. 

He  was  always  queer,  stranger,  and  I  sup- 
pose them  that's  queer  and  they  living  men 
will  be  queer  bodies  after. 

TRAMP 

Isn't  it  a  great  wonder  you're  letting  him 
lie  there,  and  he  is  not  tidied,  or  laid  out  itself? 

NOR  \ 

Coming  to  the  bed. 
I  was  afcnrd,   stranger,   for  he  put  a  black 


THE     SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

curse  on  me  this  morning  if  I'M  touch  his  body 
the  time  he'ld  die  sudden,  or  let  any  one  touch 
it  except  his  sister  only,  and  it's  ten  miles  away 
she  lives  in  the  big  glen  over  the  hill. 

TRAMP 

Looking  at  her  and  nodding  slowly. 

It's  a  queer  story  he  wouldn't  let  his  own 
wife  touch  him,  and  he  dying  quiet  in  his  bed. 

NORA 
He  was  an  old  man,  and  an  odd  man, 
stranger,  and  it's  always  up  on  the  hills  he  was 
thinking  thoughts  in  the  dark  mist.  (She  pulls 
back  a  bit  of  the  sheet.)  Lay  your  hand  on  him 
now,  and  tell  me  if  it's  cold  he  is  surely. 

TRAMP 

Is  it  getting  the  curse  on  me  you'ld  be, 
woman  of  the  house?  I  wouldn't  lay  my  hand 
on  him  for  the  Lough  Nahanagan  and  it  filled 
with  gold. 

NORA 

Looking  uneasily  at  the  body. 

Maybe  cold  would  be  no  sign  of  death  with 
the  like  of  him,  for  he  was  always  cold,  every 
day  since  I  knew  him,  —  and  every  night, 
stranger.  —  (she  covers  up  his  face  and  comes 

IO 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

away  from  the  bed)  ;  but  I'm  thinking  it's 
dead  he  is  surely,  for  he's  complaining  a  while 
back  of  a  pain  in  his  heart,  and  this  morning, 
the  time  he  was  going  off  to  Brittas  for  three 
days  or  four,  he  was  taken  with  a  sharp  turn. 
Then  he  went  into  his  bed  and  he  was  saying  it 
was  destroyed  he  was,  the  time  the  shadow  was 
going  up  through  the  glen,  and  when  the  sun 
set  on  the  bog  beyond  he  made  a  great  lep,  and 
let  a  great  cry  out  of  him,  and  stiffened  him- 
self out  the  like  of  a  dead  sheep. 

TRAMP 

Crosses  himself. 
God  rest  his  soul. 

NORA 
Pouring  hint  out  a  glass  of  whisky. 
Maybe  that   would  do  you  better  than  the 
milk  of  the  sweetest  cow  in  County  Wicklow, 

TRAM!' 
The  Almighty  God  reward  you,  and  may  it 
be  to  your  good  health. 

He  drinks. 

NORA 

Giving  him  a  pipr  and  tobacco. 
I've  no  pipes  saving  his  own.  stranger,  but 

they're  sweel   pipes  to  smoke. 

1 1 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  GLEN 

TRAMP 

Thank  you  kindly,  lady  of  the  house. 

NORA 

Sit  down  now,  stranger,  and  be  taking  your 
rest. 

TRAMP 

Filling  a  pipe  and  looking  about  the 

room. 

I've  walked  a  great  way  through  the  world, 
lady  of  the  house,  and  seen  great  wonders, 
but  I  never  seen  a  wake  till  this  day  with  fine 
spirits,  and  good  tobacco,  and  the  best  of  pipes, 
and  no  one  to  taste  them  but  a  woman  only. 

NORA 

Didn't  you  hear  me  say  it  was  only  after 
dying  on  me  he  was  when  the  sun  went  down, 
and  how  would  I  go  out  into  the  glen  and  tell 
the  neighbours,  and  I  a  lone  woman  with  no 
house  near  me? 

TRAMP 

Drinking. 
There's  no  offence,  lady  of  the  house? 

NORA 

No  offence  in  life,  stranger.  How  would 
the  like  of  you,  passing  in  the  dark  night,  know 

12 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

the  lonesome  way  I  was  with  no  house  near 
me  at  all? 

TRAMP 

Sitting  down. 

I  knew  rightly.  (He  lights  his  pipe  so  that 
there  is  a  sharp  light  beneath  his  haggard 
face.)  And  I  was  thinking,  and  1  coming  in 
through  the  door,  that  it's  many  a  lone  woman 
would  be  afeard  of  the  like  of  me  in  the  dark 
night,  in  a  place  wouldn't  be  as  lonesome  as 
this  place,  where  there  aren't  two  living  souls 
would  see  the  little  light  you  have  shining  from 
the  glass. 

NORA 
Slowly. 

I'm  thinking  many  would  be  afeard,  but  I 
never  knew  what  way  I'd  be  afeard  of  beggar 
or  bishop  or  any  man  of  you  at  all.  (She  looks 
towards  the  window  and  lowers  her  voice.) 

It's  other  things  than  the  like  of  you,  stranger, 
would  make  a  person  afeard. 

TRAMP 

Looking  round  with  Q  half-shudder. 
It  is  surely,  God  help  us  all ! 

13 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

NORA 

Looking  at  him  for  a  moment  with 

curiosity. 
You're  saying  that,  stranger,  as  if  you  were 
easy  afeard. 

TRAMP 

Speaking  mournfully. 

Is  it  myself,  lady  of  the  house,  that  does  be 
walking  round  in  the  long  nights,  and  cross- 
ing the  hills  when  the  fog  is  on  them,  the  time 
a  little  stick  would  seem  as  big  as  your  arm, 
and  a  rabbit  as  big  as  a  bay  horse,  and  a  stack 
of  turf  as  big  as  a  towering  church  in  the  city 
of  Dublin?  If  myself  was  easily  afeard,  I'm 
telling  you,  it's  long  ago  Fid  have  been  locked 
into  the  Richmond  Asylum,  or  maybe  have  run 
up  into  the  back  hills  with  nothing  on  me  but 
an  old  shirt,  and  been  eaten  with  crows  the  like 
of  Patch  Darcy  —  the  Lord  have  mercy  on 
him  —  in  the  year  that's  gone. 

NORA 

With  interest. 
You  knew  Darcy? 

TRAMP 

Wasn't  I  the  last  one  heard  his  living  voice 
in  the  whole  world? 

14 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

NORA 

There  were  great  stories  of  what  was  heard 
at  that  time,  but  would  any  one  believe  the 
things  they  do  be  saying  in  the  glen? 

TRAMP 

It  was  no  lie,  lady  of  the  house.  ...  I  was 
passing  below  on  a  dark  night  the  like  of  this 
night,  and  the  sheep  were  lying  under  the  ditch 
and  every  one  of  them  coughing,  and  choking, 
like  an  old  man,  with  the  great  rain  and  the 
fog.  Then  I  heard  a  thing  talking  —  queer 
talk,  you  wouldn't  believe  at  all,  and  you  out 
of  your  dreams,  —  and  "  Merciful  God,"  says 
I,  "  if  I  begin  hearing  the  like  of  that  voice 
out  of  the  thick  mist,  I'm  destroyed  surely." 
Then  I  run,  and  1  run,  and  1  run,  till  1  was 
below  in  Rathvanna.  I  got  drunk  that  night, 
I  got  drunk  in  the  morning,  and  drunk  the  day 
after,  —  I  was  coming  from  the  races  beyond 
—  and  the  third  day  they  found  Darcy.  .  .  . 
Then  I  knew  it  was  himself  I  was  after  hear- 
ing, and  I  wasn't  afeard  any  more. 

NORA 

Speaking  sorrowfully  and  slowly. 

God  spare  Darcy.  held  always  look  in  here 
and  he  passing  up  or  passing  down,   and   it's 

IS 


THE    SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

very  lonesome  I  was  after  him  a  long  while 
(she  looks  over  at  the  bed  and  lowers  her  voice, 
speaking  very  clearly,)  and  then  I  got  happy 
again  —  if  it's  ever  happy  we  are,  stranger,  — 
for  I  got  used  to  being  lonesome. 

A  short  pause;   then  she  stands  up. 

NORA 

Was  there  any  one  on  the  last  bit  of  the 
road,  stranger,  and  you  coming  from  Au- 
ghrim  ? 

TRAMP 

There  was  a  young  man  with  a  drift  of 
mountain  ewes,  and  he  running  after  them  this 
way  and  that. 

NORA 

With  a  half-smile. 
Far  down,  stranger? 

TRAMP 
A  piece  only. 

She  fills  the  kettle  and  puts  it  on  the 

fire. 

NORA 

Maybe,  if  you're  not  easy  afeard,  you'ld  stay 

here  a  short  while  alone  with  himself. 

16 


THE     SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

TRAMP 

I  would  surely.  A  man  that's  dead  can  do 
no  hurt. 

NORA 

Speaking  with  a  sort  of  constraint. 

I"m  going  a  little  back  to  the  west,  stranger, 
for  himself  would  go  there  one  night  and  an- 
other and  whistle  at  that  place,  and  then  the 
young  man  you're  after  seeing  —  a  kind  of  a 
farmer  has  come  up  from  the  sea  to  live  in  a 
cottage  beyond  —  would  walk  round  to  see  if 
there  was  a  thing  we'ld  have  to  be  done,  and 
I'm  wanting  him  this  night,  the  way  he  can 
go  down  into  the  glen  when  the  sun  goes  up 
and  tell  the  people  that  himself  is  dead. 

TRAMP 

Looking  at  the  body  in  the  sheet. 

It's  myself  will  go  for  him,  lady  of  the 
house,  and  let  you  not  be  destroying  yourself 
with  the  great  rain. 

NORA 

You  wouldn't  find  your  way,  stranger,  for 
there's  a  small  path  only,  and  it  running  up 
between    two    sluigS    where    an    ass    and    cart 

would  be  drowned.     (She  puts  a  shawl  over 

'7 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

her  head.)  Let  you  be  making  yourself  easy, 
and  saying  a  prayer  for  his  soul,  and  it's  not 
long  I'll  be  coming  again. 

TRAMP 

Moving  uneasily. 

Maybe  if  you'd  a  piece  of  a  grey  thread  and 
a  sharp  needle  —  there's  great  safety  in  a 
needle,  lady  of  the  house  —  Fid  be  putting 
a  little  stitch  here  and  there  in  my  old 
coat,  the  time  I'll  be  praying  for  his  soul,  and 
it  going  up  naked  to  the  saints  of  God. 

NORA 

Takes  a  needle  and  thread  from  the 
front  of  her  dress  and  gives  it  to  him. 

There's  the  needle,  stranger,  and  I'm  think- 
ing you  won't  be  lonesome,  and  you  used  to  the 
back  hills,  for  isn't  a  dead  man  itself  more  com- 
pany than  to  be  sitting  alone,  and  hearing  the 
winds  crying,  and  you  not  knowing  on  what 
thing  your  mind  would  stay? 

TRAMP 

Slowly. 
It's  true,  surely,  and  the  Lord  have  mercy 
on  us  all ! 

Nora  goes  out.     The  Tramp  begins 

18 


THE     SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

stitching  one  of  the  tags  in  his  coat, 
saying  the  "  De  Profundus  "  under  his 
breath.  In  an  instant  the  sheet  is 
drawn  slowly  dozen,  and  Dan  Burke 
looks  out.  The  Tramp  moves  un- 
easily, then  looks  up,  and  springs  to 
his  feet  unth  a  movement  of  terror. 

DAN 

With  a  hoarse  voice. 

Don't  be  afeard,  stranger ;  a  man  that's  dead 
can  do  no  hurt. 

TRAMP 

Trembling. 

I  meant  no  harm,  your  honour ;  and  won't 
you  leave  me  easy  to  be  saying  a  little  prayer 
for  your  soul  ? 

A  long  whistle  is  heard  outside. 

DAN 

Sitting   up   in   his   bed   ami  speaking 

fiercely. 

Ah,  the  devil  mend  her.  ...  Do  you  hear 
that,  stranger?  Did  ever  you  hear  another 
woman  could  whistle  the  like  of  thai  with  two 

fingers  in  her  mouth?     (He  looks  at  the  tiible 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

hurriedly.)  I'm  destroyed  with  the  drouth, 
and  let  you  bring  me  a  drop  quickly  before  her- 
self will  come  back. 

TRAMP 

Doubtfully. 
Is  it  not  dead  you  are? 

DAN 

How  would  I  be  dead,  and  I  as  dry  as  a 
baked  bone,  stranger? 

TRAMP 

Pouring  out  the  zvhisky. 

What  will  herself  say  if  she  smells  the  stuff 
on  you,  for  I'm  thinking  it's  not  for  nothing 
you're  letting  on  to  be  dead  ? 

DAN 

It  is  not,  stranger,  but  she  won't  be  coming 
near  me  at  all,  and  it's  not  long  now  I'll  be 
letting  on,  for  I've  a  cramp  in  my  back,  and 
my  hip's  asleep  on  me,  and  there's  been  the 
devil's  own  fly  itching  my  nose.  It's  near  dead 
I  was  wanting  to  sneeze,  and  you  blathering 
about  the  rain,  and  Darcy  (bitterly) — the 
devil  choke  him  —  and  the  towering  church. 
(Crying    out    impatiently.)       Give    me    that 

20 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

whisky.     Would  you  have  herself  come  back 
before  I  taste  a  drop  at  all? 

Tramp  gives  him  the  glass. 

DAN 

After  drinking. 

Go  over  now  to  that  cupboard,  and  bring  me 
a  black  stick  you'll  see  in  the  west  corner  by  the 
wall. 

TRAMP 

Taking  a  stick  from  the  cupboard. 
Is  it  that? 

DAN 

It  is,  stranger;  it's  a  long  time  I'm  keeping 
that  stick  for  I've  a  bad  wife  in  the  house. 

TRAMP 

With  a  queer  look. 

Is  it  herself,  master  of  the  house,  and  she  a 
grand  woman  to  talk? 

DAN 

It's  herself,  surely,  it's  a  bad  wife  she  is  —  a 
bad  wife  for  an  old  man.  and  I'm  getting  old, 
God  help  me,  though  I've  an  arm  to  me  still. 
(  He  takes  the  stick  in  his  hand. )  Ld  von  wait 
now  a  short  while,  and  it's  a  great  sight  you'll 

j  i 


THE     SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

see  in  this  room  in  two  hours  or  three.     (He 
stops  to  listen.)     Is  that  somebody  above? 

TRAMP 

Listening. 
There's  a  voice  speaking  on  the  path. 

DAN 

Put  that  stick  here  in  the  bed  and  smooth  the 
sheet  the  way  it  was  lying.  (He  covers  him- 
self up  hastily.)  Be  falling  to  sleep  now  and 
don't  let  on  you  know  anything,  or  I'll  be 
having  your  life.  I  wouldn't  have  told  you 
at  all  but  it's  destroyed  with  the  drouth  I  was. 

TRAMP 

Covering  his  head. 

Have  no  fear,  master  of  the  house.  What 
is  it  I  know  of  the  like  of  you  that  I'ld  be  say- 
ing a  word  or  putting  out  my  hand  to  stay  you 
at  all? 

He  goes  back  to  the  fire,  sits  down  on 

a  stool  zvith  his  back  to  the  bed  and 

goes  on  stitching  his  coat. 

DAN 

Under  the  sheet,  querulously. 
Stranger. 

22 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

TRAMP 

Quickly. 

Whisht,  whisht.  Be  quiet  I'm  telling  you, 
they're  coming  now  at  the  door. 

Nora  comes  in  with  Micheal  Dara,  a 
tall,  innocent  young  man  behind  her. 

NORA 

I  wasn't  long  at  all,  stranger,  for  I  met  him- 
self on  the  path. 

TRAMP 
You  were  middling  long,  lady  of  the  house. 

NORA 

There  was  no  sign  from  himself? 

'["RAMP 
Xo  sign  at  all.  lady  of  the  house. 

NORA 

To  Micheal. 

Go  over  now  and  pull  down  the  sheet,  and 
look  on  himself.  Micheal  Dara,  and  you'll  see 
it's  the  truth   I'm  telling  you. 

MICHEAL 
1  will  not,  Nora,  I  do  be  afeard  of  the  dead 
lie  sits  down  on  a  stool  next  the  table 

2.1 


THE    SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

facing   the    tramp.      Nora   puts   the 
kettle  on  a  lotver  hook  of  the  pot- 
hooks, and  piles  turf  under  it. 

NORA 

Turning  to  Tramp. 

Will  you  drink  a  sup  of  tea  with  myself  and 
the  young  man,  stranger,  or  (speaking  more 
persuasively)  will  you  go  into  the  little  room 
and  stretch  yourself  a  short  while  on  the  bed, 
I'm  thinking  it's  destroyed  you  are  walking  the 
length  of  that  way  in  the  great  rain. 

TRAMP 

Is  it  to  go  away  and  leave  you,  and  you 
having  a  wake,  lady  of  the  house?  I  will  not 
surely.  (He  takes  a  drink  from  his  glass 
which  he  has  beside  him.)  And  it's  none  of 
your  tea  I'm  asking  either. 

He  goes  on  stitching. 
Nora  makes  the  tea. 

MICHEAL 

After  looking   at   the   tramp   rather 
scornfully  for  a  moment. 

That's  a  poor  coat  you  have,  God  help  you, 
and  I'm  thinking  it's  a  poor  tailor  you  are  with 
it. 

M 


THE    SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

TRAMP 
If  it's  a  poor  tailor  I  am,  I'm  thinking  it's 
a  poor  herd  does  be  running  back  and  forward 
after  a  little  handful  of  ewes  the  way  I  seen 
yourself  running  this  day,  young  fellow,  and 
you  coming  from  the  fair. 

Nora  comes  back  to  the  table. 

NORA 

To  Micheal  in  a  low  voice. 

Let  you  not  mind  him  at  all,  Micheal  Dara, 
he  has  a  drop  taken  and  it's  soon  he'll  be  fall- 
ing asleep. 

MICHEAL 
It's  no  lie  he's  telling,  I  was  destroyed 
surely.  They  were  that  wilful  they  were  run- 
ning off  into  one  man's  bit  of  oats,  and  an- 
other man's  bit  of  hay.  and  tumbling  into  the 
red  bogs  till  it's  more  like  a  pack  of  old  goats 
than  sheep  they  were.  Mountain  ewes  is  a 
f|iieer  breed,  Nora  Burke,  and  I'm  not  used  to 
them  at  all. 

NORA 

Settling  the  tea  things. 

There's  no  one  can  drive  a  mountain  ewe 
but  the  men  do  be  reared  in  the  Glen  Malure, 
I've  heard  them  say,  and  above  by  Rathvanna, 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

and  the  Glen  Imaal,  mem  the  like  of  Patch 
Darcy,  God  spare  his  soul,  who  would  walk 
through  five  hundred  sheep  and  miss  one  of 
them,  and  he  not  reckoning  them  at  all. 

MICHEAL 

Uneasily. 

Is  it  the  man  went  queer  in  his  head  the 
year  that's  gone? 

NORA 

It  is  surely. 

TRAMP 

Plaintively. 

That  was  a  great  man,  young  fellow,  a  great 
man  I'm  telling  you.  There  was  never  a  lamb 
from  his  own  ewes  he  wouldn't  know  before 
it  was  marked,  and  he'ld  run  from  this  to 
the  city  of  Dublin  and  never  catch  for  his 
breath. 

NORA 

Turning  round  quickly. 

He  was  a  great  man  surely,  stranger,  and 

isn't  it  a  grand  thing  when  you  hear  a  living 

man  saying  a  good  word  of  a  dead  man,  and 

he  mad  dying? 

26 


THE     SHADOW     OF      THE     GLEN 

TRAMP 
It's  the  truth  I'm  saying,  God  spare  his  soul. 

He  puts  the  needle  under  the  collar 

of  his  coat,  and  settles  himself  to 

sleep  in  the  chimney-corner. 

Nora  sits  dozen  at  the  table;    their 

backs  are  turned  to  the  bed. 

MICHEAL 

Looking  at  her  with  a  queer  look. 

I  heard  tell  this  day,  Xora  Burke,  that  it 
was  on  the  path  below  Patch  Darcy  would 
be  passing  up  and  passing  down,  and  I  heard 
them  say  he'ld  never  pass  it  night  or  morning 
without  speaking  with  yourself. 

NORA 

/;/  a  low  voice. 

It  was  no  lie  you  heard,  Micheal  Dara. 

MICHEAL 
I'm  thinking   it's   a   power  <>\    men   you're 

after  knowing  if  it's  in  a  lonesome  place  you 
live  itself. 

NORA 
Giving  hmi  his  tea 

It's  in  a  lonesome  place  you  do  have  tO  be 


THE    SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

talking  with  some  one,  and  looking  for  some 
one,  in  the  evening  of  the  day,  and  if  it's  a 
power  of  men  I'm  after  knowing  they  were 
tine  men,  for  I  was  a  hard  child  to  please,  and 
a  hard  girl  to  please  (she  looks  at  him  a  little 
sternly),  and  it's  a  hard  woman  I  am  to  please 
this  day,  Micheal  Dara,  and  it's  no  lie  I'm  tell- 
ing you. 

MICHEAL 

Looking  over  to  see  that  the  tramp 
is  asleep,   and  then  pointing  to   the 

dead  man. 

Was  it  a  hard  woman  to  please  you  were 
when  you  took  himself  for  your  man? 

NORA 

What  way  would  I  live  and  I  an  old  woman 
if  I  didn't  marry  a  man  with  a  bit  of  a 
farm,  and  cows  on  it,  and  sheep  on  the  back 
hills? 

MICHEAL 

Considering. 

That's  true,  Nora,  and  maybe  it's  no  fool 

you  were,   for  there's  good  grazing  on  it,  if 

it  is  a  lonesome  place,  and  I'm  thinking  it's 

a  good  sum  he's  left  behind. 

28 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE,    GLEN 

NORA 

Taking    the    stocking    with    money 
from  her  pocket,  and  putting  it  on 

the  table. 

1  do  be  thinking  in  the  long  nights  it  was  a 
big  fool  I  was  that  time,  Micheal  Dara,  for 
what  good  is  a  bit  of  a  farm  with  cows  on  it, 
and  sheep  on  the  back  hills,  when  you  do  be 
sitting  looking  out  from  a  door  the  like  of  that 
door,  and  seeing  nothing  but  the  mists  rolling 
down  the  bog,  and  the  mists  again,  and  they 
rolling  up  the  bog,  and  hearing  nothing  but 
the  wind  crying  out  in  the  bits  of  broken  trees 
were  left  from  the  great  storm,  and  the 
streams  roaring  with  the  rain. 

MICHEAL 

Looking  at  her  uneasily. 

What  is  ii  ails  you,  this  night,  Nora  Burke? 
I've  heard  tell  it's  the  like  of  thai  talk  you  do 
hear  from  men,  and  they  after  being  a  great 
while  on  the  back  hills. 

NORA 

Putting  out  the  money  on  the  table. 

It's  a  bad  night,  and  a  wild  night.  Micheal 
Dara.  and   isn't    it  a  great    while    I    am  at    the 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

foot  of  the  back  hills,  sitting  up  here  boiling 
food  for  himself,  and  food  for  the  brood  sow, 
and  baking  a  cake  when  the  night  falls?  (She 
puts  up  the  money,  listlessly,  in  little  piles  on 
the  table.)  Isn't  it  a  long  while  I  am  sitting 
here  in  the  winter  and  the  summer,  and  the  fine 
spring,  with  the  young  growing  behind  me 
and  the  old  passing,  saying  to  myself  one  time, 
to  look  on  Mary  Brien  who  wasn't  that  height 
(holding  out  her  hand),  and  I  a  fine  girl  grow- 
ing up,  and  there  she  is  now  with  two  children, 
and  another  coming  on  her  in  three  months  or 
four. 

She  pauses. 

MICHEAL 

Moving  over  three  of  the  piles. 

That's  three  pounds  we  have  now,  Nora 
Burke. 

NORA 

Continuing  in  the  same  voice. 

And  saying  to  myself  another  time,  to  look 
on  Peggy  Cavanagh,  who  had  the  lightest 
hand  at  milking  a  cow  that  wouldn't  be  easy, 
or  turning  a  cake,  and  there  she  is  now  walk- 
ing round  on  the  roads,  or  sitting  in  a  dirty 
old  house,  with  no  teeth  in  her  mouth,  and  no 

30 


THE    SHADOW    OF    THE,    GLEN 

sense  and  no  more  hair  than  you'ld  see  on  a 
bit  of  a  hill  and  they  after  burning  the  furze 
from  it. 

MICHEAL 

That's  five  pounds  and  ten  notes,  a  good 
sum,  surely!  .  .  .  It's  not  that  way  you'll  be 
talking  when  you  marry  a  young  man,  Nora 
Burke,  and  they  were  saying  in  the  fair  my 
lambs  were  the  best  lambs,  and  I  got  a  grand 
price,  for  I'm  no  fool  now  at  making  a  bar- 
gain when  my  lambs  are  good. 

NORA 

What  was  it  you  got? 

MICHEAL 

Twenty  pound  for  the  lot,  Nora  Burke.  .  .  . 
We'ld  do  right  to  wait  now  till  himself  will  be 
quiet  awhile  in  the  Seven  Churches,  and  then 
you'll  marry  me  in  the  chapel  of  Rathvanna, 
and  I'll  bring  the  sheep  up  on  the  bit  of  a  hill 
you  have  on  the  back  mountain,  and  we  won't 
have  anything  we'ld  be  afeard  to  let  our  minds 
on  when  the  mist  is  down. 

NORA 
Pouring  him  out  some  whisky. 

Why    would     1    marry    you,    Mike    Dara? 

31 


THE     SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

You'll  be  getting  old  and  I'll  be  getting  old, 
and  in  a  little  while  I'm  telling  you,  you'll  be 
sitting  up  in  your  bed  —  the  way  himself  was 
sitting  —  with  a  shake  in  your  face,  and  your 
teeth  falling,  and  the  white  hair  sticking  out 
round  you  like  an  old  bush  where  sheep  do  be 
leaping  a  gap. 

Dan  Burke  sits  up  noiselessly  from 
under  the  sheet,  with  his  hand  to  his 
face.     His  white  hair  is  sticking  out 

round  his  head. 

NORA 

Goes  on  slowly  zvithout  hearing  him. 

It's  a  pitiful  thing  to  be  getting  old,  but  it's 
a  queer  thing  surely.  It's  a  queer  thing  to  see 
an  old  man  sitting  up  there  in  his  bed  with  no 
teeth  in  him,  and  a  rough  word  in  his  mouth, 
and  his  chin  the  way  it  would  take  the  bark 
from  the  edge  of  an  oak  board  you'ld  have 
building  a  door.  .  .  .  God  forgive  me, 
Micheal  Dara,  we'll  all  be  getting  old,  but 
it's  a  queer  thing  surely. 

MICHEAL 

It's  too  lonesome  you  are  from  living  a  long 
time  with  an  old  man,  Nora,  and  you're  talk- 
ing again  like  a  herd  that  would  be  coming 

32 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

down  from  the  thick  mist  (he  puts  his  arm 
round  her),  but  it's  a  fine  life  you'll  have  now 
with  a  young  man,  a  fine  life  surely.  .  .  . 

Dan  sneezes  violently.  Micheal  tries 
to  get  to  the  door,  but  before  he  can 
do  so,  Dan  jumps  out  of  the  bed  in 
queer  white  clothes,  with  his  stick  in 
his  hand,  and  goes  over  and  puts  his 

back  against  it. 


*&i 


MICHEAL 

Son  of  God  deliver  us. 

Crosses  himself,  and  goes  backward 

across  the  room. 

DAN 

Holding  up  his  hand  at  him. 

Now  you'll  not  marry  her  the  time  I'm  rot- 
ting below  in  the  Seven  Churches,  and  you'll 
see  the  thing  I'll  give  you  will  follow  you 
on  the  back  mountains  when  the  wind  is 
high. 

MICHEAL 

To  Nora. 

Get  me  out  of  it,  Nora,  for  the  l<>ve  of  God. 
lie  always  did  what  you  bid  him,  and   I'm 

thinking  he  Would  do  it  now. 

33 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  GLEN 

NORA 

Looking  at  the  Tramp. 
Is  it  dead  he  is  or  living? 

DAN 
Turning  towards  her. 

It's  little  you  care  if  it's  dead  or  living  I  am, 
but  there'll  be  an  end  now  of  your  fine  times, 
and  all  the  talk  you  have  of  young  men  and 
old  men,  and  of  the  mist  coming  up  or  going 
down.  (He  opens  the  door.)  You'll  walk  out 
now  from  that  door,  Nora  Burke,  and  it's  not 
to-morrow,  or  the  next  day,  or  any  day  of 
your  life,  that  you'll  put  in  your  foot  through 
it  again. 

TRAMP 

Standing  up. 

It's  a  hard  thing  you're  saying  for  an  old 
man,  master  of  the  house,  and  what  would  the 
like  of  her  do  if  you  put  her  out  on  the  roads? 

DAN 

Let  her  walk  round  the  like  of  Peggy 
Cavanagh  below,  and  be  begging  money  at  the 
cross-road,  or  selling  songs  to  the  men.  (To 
Nora.)  Walk  out  now,  Nora  Burke,  and  it's 
soon  you'll  be  getting  old  with  that  life,  I'm 

34 


T  H  E     SHADO  W     O  F     THE    GLEN 

idling  you ;  it's  soon  your  teeth'll  be  falling 
and  your  head'll  be  the  like  of  a  bush  where 
sheep  do  be  leaping  a  gap. 

He    pauses:     she    looks    round    at 

Micheal. 

MICHEAL 
Timidly. 

There's  a  fine  Union  below  in  Rathdrum. 

DAN 

The  like  of  her  would  never  go  there.  .  .  . 
It's  lonesome  roads  she'll  be  going  and  hiding 
herself  away  till  the  end  will  come,  and  they 
find  her  stretched  like  a  dead  sheep  with  the 
frost  on  her,  or  the  big  spiders,  maybe,  and 
they  putting  their  webs  on  her,  in  the  butt  of 
a  ditch. 

NORA 
Angrily. 

What  way  will  yourself  be  that  day,  Daniel 
Burke?  What  way  will  you  be  that  day  and 
you  lying  flown  a  long  while  in  your  grave? 
For  it's  bad  you  are  living,  and  it's  bad  you'll 
be  when  you're  dead.  (She  looks  at  him  a 
moment  fiercely,  then  half  turns  mvay  and 
speaks  plaintively  again.)     Yet.  if  it  is  itself, 


THE     SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

Daniel  Burke,  who  can  help  it  at  all,  and  let 
you  be  getting  up  into  your  bed,  and  not  be 
taking  your  death  with  the  wind  blowing  on 
you,  and  the  rain  with  it,  and  you  half  in  your 
skin. 

DAN 

It's  proud  and  happy  you'ld  be  if  I  was  get- 
ting my  death  the  day  I  was  shut  of  yourself. 
{Pointing  to  the  door.)  Let  you  walk  out 
through  that  door,  I'm  telling  you,  and  let  you 
not  be  passing  this  way  if  it's  hungry  you  are, 
or  wanting  a  bed. 

TRAMP 

Pointing  to  Micheal. 
Maybe  himself  would  take  her. 

NORA 

What  would  he  do  with  me  now? 

TRAMP 

Give  you  the  half  of  a  dry  bed,  and  good 
food  in  your  mouth. 

DAN 

Is  it  a  fool  you  think  him,  stranger,  or  is  it 
a  fool  you  were  born  yourself?  Let  her  walk 
out  of  that  door,  and  let  you  go  along  with 

36 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

her,  stranger  —  if  it's  raining  itself  —  for  it's 
too  much  talk  you  have  surely. 

TRAMP 

Going  over  to  Nora. 

We'll  be  going  now,  lady  of  the  house  —  the 
rain  is  falling,  but  the  air  is  kind  and  maybe 
it'll  be  a  grand  morning  by  the  grace  of  God. 

NORA 
What  good  is  a  grand  morning  when  I'm 
destroyed  surely,  and  I  going  out  to  get  my 
death  walking  the  roads? 

TRAMP 
You'll  not  be  getting  your  death  with  my- 
self, lady  of  the  house,  and  I  knowing  all  the 
ways  a  man  can  put  food  in  his  mouth.  .  .  . 
We'll  be  going  now,  I'm  telling  you,  and  the 
time  you'll  be  feeling  the  cold,  and  the  frost, 
and  the  great  rain,  and  the  sun  again,  and  the 
south  wind  blowing  in  the  glens,  you'll  not  be 
sitting  up  on  a  wet  ditch,  the  way  you're  after 
sitting  in  the  place,  making  yourself  old  with 
looking  on  each  day,  and  it  passing  you  by. 
You'll  be  saying  one  time,  "  It's  a  grand 
evening,  by  the  grace  of  God,"  and  another 
time,  "  It's  a  wild  night,  God  help  us,  but  it'll 
pass  surely."     You'll  l>e  saying  — 

37 


THE     SHADOW    OF    THE    GLEN 

DAN 

Goes  over  to  them  crying  out  impa- 
tiently. 

Go  out  of  that  door,  I'm  telling  you,  and  do 
your  blathering  below  in  the  glen. 

Nora  gathers  a  feiv  things  into  her 

shawl. 

TRAMP 

At  the  door. 

Come  along  with  me  now,  lady  of  the  house, 
and  it's  not  my  blather  you'll  be  hearing  only, 
but  you'll  be  hearing  the  herons  crying  out  over 
the  black  lakes,  and  you'll  be  hearing  the  grouse 
and  the  owls  with  them,  and  the  larks  and  the 
big  thrushes  when  the  days  are  warm,  and  it's 
not  from  the  like  of  them  you'll  be  hearing  a 
talk  of  getting  old  like  Peggy  Cavanagh,  and 
losing  the  hair  off  you,  and  the  light  of  your 
eyes,  but  it's  fine  songs  you'll  be  hearing  when 
the  sun  goes  up,  and  there'll  be  no  old  fellow 
wheezing,  the  like  of  a  sick  sheep,  close  to  your 
ear. 

NORA 

I'm  thinking  it's  myself  will  be  wheezing 
that  time  with  lying  down  under  the  Heavens 
when  the  night  is  cold;    but  you've  a  fine  bit 

38 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

of  talk,  stranger,  and  it's  with  yourself  I'll  go. 
(She  goes  toicards  the  door,  then  turns  to 
Dan.)  You  think  it's  a  grand  thing  you're 
after  doing  with  your  letting  on  to  be  dead, 
but  what  is  it  at  all?  What  way  would  a 
woman  live  in  a  lonesome  place  the  like  of  this 
place,  and  she  not  making  a  talk  with  the  men 
passing?  And  what  way  will  yourself  live 
from  this  day,  with  none  to  care  for  you? 
What  is  it  you'll  have  now  but  a  black  life, 
Daniel  Burke,  and  it's  not  long  I'm  telling  you, 
till  you'll  be  lying  again  under  that  sheet,  and 
you  dead  surely. 

She     goes     out    with     the     Tramp. 
Micheal  is  slinking  after  them,   but 

Dan  stops  him. 

DAN 

Sit  down  now  and  take  a  little  taste  of  the 
stuff.  Micheal  Dara.  There's  a  great  drouth 
on  me,  and  the  night  is  young. 

MICHEAL 

Coming  hock   In   the   table. 

\ud  it's  very  dry  I  am,  surely,  with  the 
fear  of  death  you  put  on  me,  and  1  after 
driving  mountain  ewes  since  the  turn  of  the 
day. 


THE     SHADOW     OF    THE    GLEN 

DAN 

Throwing  away  his  stick. 

I  was  thinking  to  strike  you,  Micheal  Dara, 
but  you're  a  quiet  man,  God  help  you,  and  I 
don't  mind  you  at  all. 

He  pours  out  two  glasses  of  whisky, 
and  gives  one  to  Micheal. 

DAN 

Your  good  health,  Micheal  Dara. 

MICHEAL 

God  reward  you,  Daniel  Burke,  and  may  you 
have  a  long  life,  and  a  quiet  life,  and  good 
health  with  it. 

They  drink. 

CURTAIN. 


4» 


DATE  DUE 

CAVLOftO 

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